


Play On

by littlemsnerd



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Barduil Big Bang, Coffee Shops, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, im sorry if this sucks, this is my first fic ever, what even are these tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 12:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3767938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemsnerd/pseuds/littlemsnerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil is the CEO of a major wine company with a soft spot for classical music and cappuccinos. Bard is a barista playing part-time for the local philharmonic, with hopes to get in to the local highly prestigious quartet. When they meet, everything changes for the better as they explore more about themselves. However, when Thranduil is burned by a mysterious house fire and becomes blind in both eyes, what will change with them, with their jobs, and their lifes? Find out in a fusion coffe shop!AU and a 13yr old's rendition of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is the first fic I have ever written, like, ever. So i just wanted to say thank you so much to the people who made this possible
> 
> Firstly, the people over at http://www.barduilbang.tumblr.com/ Keep doing what you're doing guys, it's awesome
> 
> Secondly, my amazing beta Meg. I totally forgot your tumblr, but you're amazing and thank you for sticking through.
> 
> And lastly, my amazing artist hannibalsketches. I loved working with you, and the art was amazing (you can go check it out here-http://hannibalsketches.tumblr.com/post/116663705127/barduil-bang-post-again-this-is-my-art-peice-for)
> 
> Thank you for reading, comments and kudos are always appreciated.

        The day of the performance rose with a cold sun, a bright sky, and the most annoying alarm known to man. Bard shot up out of bed as it went off like a gun, and blearily slammed his hand on the snooze button. He swung his legs out of bed and rubbed his eyes, a mixture of joy, dread, and nerves dancing in his stomach. Today was his first concert with the Laketown Philharmonic Symphony, and while he knows he is more than well enough prepared, it doesn't really feel like it. Pushing away everything except the need for a shower and some food, Bard slowly got out of bed and began the day.  
  
    Sigrid had been up for ages, of course, so when Bard finally came down to the kitchen after showering and getting dressed, there was already breakfast set out. Bain and Tilda were happily seated, and Sigrid was at the sink, cleaning up the dishes.  
  
    "Good morning Da. Pancakes?", she asked as she turned around.  
      
    "Ah, yes please, Si". Bard fell happily into his chair, and within moments, a pile of hot pancakes were placed in front of him.  
      
    "Si, you really don't have to do this, you know. I'm a grown man, I'm more than capable." Bard said as he shoveled them into his mouth greedily.  
      
    "Da, you work too hard as it is. It's not a problem. Speaking of working, are you excited for your concert today?" Sigrid commented as she swept up the remainder of Tilda's breakfast.  
      
    "Oh, is that today? Goodness, I'm so excited!" Tilda replied happily as Bard groaned in response,"Don't remind me Tilda, I'm trying to see what happens if I don't think of it. Maybe it's just a dream."  
      
    "Dad, really. You've been practicing super hard, I'm sure you'll do great." Bain said, staring down at his phone screen, otherwise entertained by another stupid app or something.  
      
    "Alright, alright. Well, we'd best be off if we're going to be on time", Bard said as he stood up and grabbed his keys off the hook. Loading all three kids was always a challenge, but they managed to get out the door and drop everyone off on time (or at least just a few minutes late, but honestly, who counts that?).  
  
    After coming home and changing for the all-day rehearsal, admittedly a bit behind, Bard packed up his bass in the back of the truck, and drove to the concert hall. Once he got there, he saw that he was not late, as he thought he would be, but right on time.The sounds pf people chatting and instruments tuning and playing could be heard from the beginning of the hallway.  
      
    As he walked in, one of the cellists called him over.  
  
    "Bard! Come on over, there's someone I want you to meet."  
  
     Bard walked over, staggering slightly with the weight of his bass in one hand.  
  
    "Hello there, Percy."  
  
    "So nice of you to show up. This is my wife, Aghda. Aghda, Bard."  
  
    Bard smiled as he took the woman's hand.  
  
    "Oh, lovely to meet you.", she smiled back  
  
    "You as well.", he said, "well, I'd best be setting up. Got a long day ahead of us, I'm sure."  
      
    "Ah, yes. Well then, in that case, see you later." Percy said as he ushered his wife out of the practice room. Bard took his instrument over to his spot as first chair (which was also another surprise), and started setting up. Music, check. Bass, check. Rosin, Ch-  
"Bard."  
  
    He looked up, fully knowing who was talking to him and really wishing a piano would fall from the sky right about now.  
***********************************************************************  
      
    Across town, someone else was feeling remarkable similar. Thranduil Oropherion, CEO of Mirkwood Wine, was sitting in at another sales meeting. As CEO and founder of this company, Thranduil thought he should be enjoying himself. However, as the manager of the sales branch pulled up another god-forsaken charts, he supposed that you would have to either be criminally insane or sociopath to enjoy sales meetings.  
      
    As the manager droned on and on, Thranduil found himself looking at the clock more and more, waiting for 5 o'clock. This was unusual, especially for a Friday. He was usually so consumed with his work, he forgot all about leaving at 5, and would most likely end up leaving around 7. But today was special seeing that he was a). about 2 seconds away form falling asleep where he sat and  b). rather excited for the concert he was attending tonight.  
      
    Thranduil had always been an avid concertgoer, so when the opportunity arose to see the local Philharmonic, he jumped. Recently, they had hired a new bassist, seeing as the old one had suffered injuries in a car crash and was now paralyzed from the waist down, and no longer able to play. Thranduil was going to see if this new guy was any good, and if he should consider withdrawing his monthly donations.  
      
    As the manager pulled out yet another goddamn bar graph, Thranduil decided that he had enough. Discreetly pulling up the settings on his phone, he made sure it was full volume before pressing the ring tone he had set for his home phone.  
      
    It rang through the almost entirely silent room like a shot, and all eyes turned to him immediately. He stood up, shot an apologetic glance at the manager, and swiftly moved out of the conference room.  
      
    As he moved out, he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that this could only buy him a couple minutes. However, he would have rather been run over by a truck than sit through another half hour of that. As he waited, he pondered what tonight would be like. He knew that the Philharmonic had been practicing for quite awhile, since January, so it should be well put together. Although, new people are known to mess everything up quite spectacularly. Why, just that morning, his assistant-  
      
    Shaking himself out of his daydream, he popped his head back into the conference room and proceeded to give the lamest excuse to get out of anything ever.  
      
    "Yes, I understand. Uh-huh. Ok. Well, see you soon. Sorry, looks like I'm going to have to leave early," he said as he looked around at the monkeys in suits, all staring expectantly at him," Wonderful work you've done, Mr. ah- Jones?"  
      
    "Lewis, sir."  
      
    "Ah, yes, Mr. Lewis. Exemplary. Well, carry on then, have a good day."  
      
    As he said that with such an air of finality there was no room for discussion, Thranduil pulled his head out of the doorway and stalked away.  
***********************************************************************


	2. Chapter 2

    Backstage was frantic as everyone tried to fix every last minute problem that seemed to arise. Snippets of conversation could be heard as people moved to and fro, passing and weaving through the crowd.  
  
    "Has anyone seen my bow?"  
  
    "Where's my folder? Have you seen it?"  
  
    "I can't find my phone, can you give me yours?"  
  
    "Come on, I need that!"  
      
    As the masses danced around, Bard was sat in a corner, mindlessly scrolling through his phone while everyone else ran to find their belongings. He heard the sharp click of heels that meant someone was approaching him, so he paused his game of Flappy Bird and looked up. He regretted it almost instantly.  
  
    "Bard."  
  
    Smaug Nogard stood above him, greased hair shining in the dim lights of backstage, looking severe and arrogant as ever. He was the second chair bassist, so naturally, he harbored a bit of a sore spot for Bard. You see, when the old bassist, Gideon, was paralyzed, Smaug fully expected to be promoted to first chair. But then, in came Bard, and dashed his dreams like a hand through smoke.  
      
    Bard didn't particularly like the guy either; he always seemed so stern and snakelike. Frankly, sometimes he scared him.  
  
    "Hello, Smaug. Good to see your cheerful as ever."  
  
    "Quite. I was wondering, were you planning on auditioning for the bassist spot in the Mirkwood Quartet?"  
  
    The Mirkwood String Quartet is exactly what it sounds like. Lead by Elrond and sponsored by Mirkwood Wine, it was one of the most prestigious musical ensembles around, right up there with the Vitamin String Quartet. They rarely had spots open, but thanks to loss of inspiration, all of the current members had quit. Everyone in town knew they were auditioning, and everyone in the Philharmonic wanted a shot at the golden seats.  
      
    However, even though it was widely known, it was not widely discussed, which is why Mr. Nogard's question was a little suspicious.  
      
    "Uhm, yes, I am, actually. Uh, why do you ask?"  
      
    "Oh, I just had a question about the application. Do you mind if I use yours?", he asked.  
      
    "Ah, sure. Just let me see-", Bard began, before he was cut off by the director, calling everyone into place. He shot an apologetic glance at Smaug, who seemed disappointed, and was fiddling with something in his jacket.  
  
    "Sorry, mate. Maybe next time."  
  
    As he walked over to pick up his bass, Bard absolutely could not shake the feeling that something was different, and that he had just avoided something bad.  
**********************************************************************  
    Thranduil settled into the faux velvet seats and immediately pulled out his phone. Now, he really hated the people who pulled out their cell phones during a concert, but the lights hadn't even dimmed yet, and it wasn't supposed to start for another minute or so, so he thought it was ok in this scenario. Scrolling through one of many apps, Thranduil felt a sense of apprehension, one that he hadn't felt in a long time. Yes, he enjoyed going to these concerts.   
  
    Every time he went, it was like a whole new world had just been opened up to him. But they were always basically the same. This time, however, there was a newbie, and he hadn't encountered a newbie since back in 2000, when he went to Rome and one of the newer violists got spectacularly off of the count, and basically ruined the whole performance.  
      
    As the lights dimmed and as he slipped his phone in his pocket, he couldn't help but pray that tonight would would be the polar opposite of that night in Rome.   
      
    The curtains opened, and as the first chair violin gave the tuning A, the theater fell quiet. Thranduil was captivated, but not by the orchestra.  
          
    It was the bassist.  
      
    The room fell quiet, even though the orchestra was loud enough to wake even the dead. Everything fell away, until nothing was left except the black-haired man, playing with an elegance he had not seen for years. It was almost transforming, the way he played the bass. Every note seemed to be handled with care and elegance, like they would be in the hands of a practiced musician.   
      
    He was close enough to the stage to see the creases in the man's face, the calluses on his hands, the worry in his brow. He knew he had to be the first chair, because he was positioned closest to the audience, and he should not have been this worried, but he was. It was very strange, but as the night went on, they disappeared, and everything was quiet and still and perfect.  
      
    At one point during the concert, the bassist looked up and met his eyes. He felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room, he could not breathe and it was wonderful. Thranduil had not fallen in love since his wife, all those years ago, but he was starting to remember what that felt like, and damn it was good.  
      
    It felt like an instant, but soon the orchestra was playing their last note and the lights came back up. The din of chatter filled the auditorium, as people conversed and expressed their feelings to the people who came.  
      
    Thranduil sat, shell-shocked and quiet, trying to process everything that happened in the last hour or so. Eventually, he knew he had to get up and leave, so he did.  Walking out of the theater in a daze, the only thing on his mind?  
      
    I have to see him again.  
      
    Unfortunately for him, he did not remember the program he held clutched in his hand until he was at home, in his pajamas, and staring at the piece of paper in his hand. Dazedly, he opened it and flipped to the back, with the players names.  
      
    He scanned the lists, violinists, violists, cellists, until-  
    Bass  
    1st chair- Bard Bowman  
      
    He had a name. The mysterious bassist had a name.  
      
    And what an ironic name it was.  
      
    As he climbed the stairs, checked in his son to make sure he hadn't stolen away to another god-forsaken party, and went to bed, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. He hadn't felt this since he watched his wife burn in front of him and his newborn son  
      
    He was falling in love.  
  



	3. Chapter 3

    Once again, Bard woke up to the sound of a blaring alarm and the moon still hanging in the sky. He was still half dead from the concert last night, and he really didn't want to have to go to work today and deal with rude old people and bitchy rich snobs. Yet, life goes on. Thinking back to the concert last night, his only regret was that he hadn't caught the man with the silver-white hair. Bard had really wanted to talk to him, exchange numbers, say thanks for coming something. But he had already left when Bard went looking.  
  
    It was strange. Bard hadn't wanted to do that with anyone since he met his wife.  
  
    However, the alarm was still going, and now was not the time to stew over his regrets, or he'd be late for work.  
  
    With that in mind, he swung his legs out of bed and started to get ready.  
********************************************************************************  
    As he pulled into the parking lot, Bard had a lot of things on his mind.  
  
    Firstly, the Mirkwood Quartet auditions. They were exactly one month away, and Bard still wasn't extremely confident with his piece. This was the audition of a lifetime, and if he didn't make it in, lord knows that slime ball Smaug would never let him hear the end of it. However, If he did make it in, it would be huge. If you were in the Mirkwood Quartet, orchestras all over the country practically salivated over you. It would be a huge break, and a great thing to put on a resume.  
  
    Also, Bard couldn't get that blonde from last night out of his head. It was a strange feeling, and no matter what he tried, he couldn't get the nagging feeling of the way he looked at him out of the back of his mind. It was all very disconcerting, and he couldn't fight the feeling that it meant something more than amazement at his playing skills.  
  
    All of that, combined with the apprehension of serving the idiots and rude people that came in so often during their morning rush, made for a very uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
    Sighing, he pushed the car door open and made his way into the kitchens of Erebor.  
  
    The Erebor he was referring to was, of course, the Lonely Mountain Cafe. All of the staff, especially the owner, had a particular affection for Tolkien and his works, so they thought it fit to call the Lonely Mountain by its true name, whenever possible, out of respect for the old professor.  
  
    Anyway's, The Lonely Mountain Cafe, was one of the most popular drink spots in Laketown. A modern day coffee house with 50's style decor and 20's cheap prices, people raved over their coffee and food.  
  
    As Bard pushed open the back door, the smells of freshly made scones, donuts and muffins escaped past him.  
  
    "Morning, Bard." Fili, the head baker, called cheerily.  
  
    "Oh, good morning, Fili," he replied as the doors swung open to reveal a tower of plates, cups, and silverware, "And Kili."  
  
    "Good morning, Bard! I say, you look like you've been run over by a truck! Didn't get much sleep last night, eh?" Kili smirked as he tower of assorted plates and cutlery came crashing down into the sink to be washed.  
  
    "Yes, but not in the way you're implying. Good Lord, get you head out of the gutter." he said as he edged towards the door to the counter, so he could go set up.  
  
    "Kili, stop bothering him. He's got to go set up, you ignorant twat." Fili scolded him from behind his dough.  
  
    "Fine. See you later, then."  
  
    Finally. Bard pushed his way through the swinging doors, and went straight to work behind the counter. With all of its coffee beans and equipment standing (sort of) shining and proud. He started the procedure to open up the cafe, and the sun rays streamed in and danced on the floor.  
***********************************************************************************  
    Good god, Bard hated 7 o'clock in the morning. He loved his job, but right now, the line was out the door and that useless excuse for a co-worker, Alfrid, was late once again, leaving only him to deal with all of the customers.  
  
    He bounced back and forth like a rubber ball, from the cash register to the machine to the refrigerator, back and forth, over and over.  
  
    "Hey Bard, will you- oh for heavens sake."  
  
    Bilbo, the store manager, came out of the office and stared in shock. As Bard looked at him, pleadingly, he snapped to.  
  
    "Dammit, Alfrid, that's the last straw. Alright, you've got the register, I'll take the drinks."  
  
    Bard nodded in affirmation, and ran back to the register.  
***********************************************************************************  
    After that, the line moved much faster, and at 7:30, their last customer stepped up to the counter.  
  
    "Sorry for the wait, welcome to the Lonely Mountain Cafe, what can I get you today?"  
  
    "Oh, it's not a problem. I'll have a medium mocha, nonfat, no whip, no foam, extra hot please."  
  
    "Alright, and can I get a name for that?"  
  
    "Thranduil."  
  
    "Thr-an-du-il. Quite a name you have there. Anything else?"  
      
    "Thanks, and no, that'll be all."  
  
    "Alright, your total comes to $4.57." Bard said as he looked up and-  
      
    Oh.  
************************************************************************************  
    Shit.  
  
    Thranduil's mouth literally dropped open as the bassist from last night looked up at him. He had been too distracted with his phone to notice, but as he handed him his card to pay, he wondered how he didn't see before. Being this close to him was astounding. Glasses, short, black hair, brown eyes.  
  
    Oh yeah, he was in way too deep.  
  
    Stuttering, Thranduil watched as he scanned his card and handed it back. The man over the counter (Bard, he remembered and the nametag confirmed) seemed to recognize him as well.  
  
    "Alright, well, uh, that'll be out in just a moment."  
  
    Thranduil picked his jaw off of the floor so he could mumble out a "Thank you." before he turned around and practically ran to a table, pulling out his phone en route.  
  
    An eternity past (when in reality it was about 2 minutes) before he heard his name in the otherwise quiet shop, filled only with the sound of keyboard clicks and dampened conversations. He walked up to the counter, put his phone back in his pocket, and took the drink.  
  
    "Oh, I forgot to say, really great job last night." Thranduil heard the words coming out of his mouth but was positive he had not said them.  
  
    "Oh, thank you! I had a great time last night, did you enjoy it?" Bard replied, almost too quickly.  
  
    "Yes, absolutely. Haven't seen an orchestra that good for a long time. Well, I must be off. See you around." he quipped, before quickly turning around and walking towards the door, anxious to get out of there.   
  
    As he walked out to his car, he mentally scolded himself again. That was your one chance, you moron. Why didn't you ask for his number?  
  
    Well, too late to turn back. Regretfully, he opened his door and got in, before driving off to another day at work.


	4. Chapter 4

    "Come on Dad, it's just a question. What's the worst that could happen?"  
      
    "He takes me for a fool and never speaks to, wants to see, or hear from me ever again?"  
  
    Bard groaned as his head fell forward and hit the table with a satisfying thud. He was tired, just having come home from practice, tired from the late nights of staying up to practice his audition. He knew that it was a bad idea to tell his daughter about his problematic and non-existent love life. But hey, in his defense, she practically forced it out of him.   
  
    "Oh, quit being such a teenager. That's the kind of stuff I hear from Bain when he got turned down by yet another girl. Man up, will you?" Sigrid scolded from her post cleaning dishes at the sink.  
  
    "Hey, I'm allowed to whine sometimes." Bard mumbled under his breath .  
  
    "You are a grown man with 3 kids," Sigrid laughed ,"you are most definitely not allowed to whine!"  
  
    "Fine."  
  
    "But, seriously, Two things. One, do you even know the guy? You literally just met him."  
  
    "Yes, I know him!" Bard said indignantly,"His name is Thranduil Oropherion, he's the CEO at Mirkwood wine, he has one kid and his favorite band is The Beatles."  
  
    "Fine, I'll take it. And, you interrupted me before. Secondly, you said this Thranduil has been coming to the coffee shop every day for the past week?"  
  
    "...yes."  
  
    "Well, Da, hate to break it to you, but he's not coming back for just the coffee."  
  
    "What are you saying?"  
  
    "I'm saying that you should grow a pair and ask the guy out! Come on, It's only Thursday. Have him over for dinner tomorrow, I'll get the kids to keep quiet for a couple of hours. "  
  
    "Really?"  
  
    "ONLY if you ask him out, but yes. Really. Besides, you need something to distract you from that bass of yours. I swear, one of these days you're going to drop from lack of sleep."  
  
    "Oh, Sig, you're a lifesaver!" Bard smiled, shot up, walked over and captured his eldest daughter in a gigantic bear hug.  
  
    "Gee, Dad, thanks. Now, get off of me! You smell like sweat."  
  
    Bard laughed, and stepped back. It looked like everything was going to work out, but...  
  
    "What if he-"  
  
    "DA!"  
************************************************************************************  
    "Come on, Legolas! You're going to be late!"  
  
    And with those words, Thranduil heard a gigantic THUMP from his sons room. He looked at his watch and sighed.  
  
    "5...4...3...2...1."  
  
    Like a shot, the lanky blonde teenager burst out of his door, papers in his hand, backpack half open and spewing old assignments, hair a matted mess.  
  
    He ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, where his father handed him a breakfast bar while staring at his phone. Hurriedly, he shoved the remaining papers into his backpack, slung it on his back, and inhaled the bar as he threw open the garage door. Legolas ran out to the car, and the door closed behind him with a slam.  
  
    Thranduil looked up, rolled his eyes and grabbed the car keys as he headed out the door.  
  
    After he dropped Legolas off at his extremely expensive private school, Thranduil's heart rate nearly doubled.The intensity, and the possible consequences, of his next action hit him like a brick to the head. He was about to do something that he hadn't done for 15 years, before he met his wife.  
  
    He was about to ask someone out.  
  
    On a date.  
  
    Dear Lord, Thranduil was nervous.  
  
    The possible consequences, of course, were that they could say no. They could look at him with the utmost disgust in their eyes and turn him down, like he never had a chance in the first place. if that happened, obviously, Thranduil would never return to the little hole in the wall, out of shame. Which would be a tremendous shame, as he quite liked their muffins. Hopefully, Thranduil had been reading the little cues that the barista in question had been giving him, but there was always that chance.  
  
    But hey, at least there was no wedding ring, so that's a plus.  
  
    All of these thoughts whirling around in his head distracted him a bit from the road, and by the time he cleared them, Thranduil was already parked in front of the Lonely Mountain Cafe.  
  
    He stared ahead, with the weight of the world on his shoulders  
  
    As he did, Thranduil took a deep breath, got out of the car and walked in.  
  
    The familiar sights and smells within the coffee house did nothing to calm Bard's nerves. As he scrubbed a plate like his life depended on it, the gentle ring of the bell above the door signaled him to another patron. Sighing, he turned around to greet the.  
  
    "Welcome to the Lonely Mountain Cafe, what can I get-Oh, good morning, Thranduil."he said as he looked up.  
  
    Obviously.  
  
    "Hi, um, just the usual, please." Bard sensed something different in the blonde across the counter. His usual manner of bitch back off was subdued, leaving him almost shy.  
  
    "Alright. That's a medium mocha, non-fat, no foam, no whip, extra hot, right?"  
  
    "That's it."  
  
    "Great, that'll be $4.50 and dinner. With me."  
  
    Thranduil looked up from his wallet in surprise.   
  
    "W-what?" he stuttered out. Bard cringed. Crap, he doesn't like me. Well, too late to turn back now.  
  
    "I said, that'll be $4.50."  
  
    "No, the other thing."  
  
    "Oh, um, well, I was just wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me on Friday. Its ok if you don't want to, I just kinda wanted-"  
  
    "No, no, it's fine. I want too." Thranduil smiled, grateful the Bard asked first so he wouldn't have to.  
  
    "Really?" Bard beamed back.  
  
    "Yeah, really."  
  
    "That's great! So, uh, Friday night, at my house? It's kinda small, but the food will be good. I can make a mean prime rib." he smirked.  
  
    "Actually, I'm a vegetarian." Thranduil smirked as Bard turned away from the counter and started to make his drink.  
  
    "Ah, so your one of those rich snobs."  
  
    "Hey, what's that, supposed to mean?"  
  
    "Well, there's four kinds of snobs, but I can't talk about them right now, I'd go into far too much detail. Maybe I'll tell you if you show up on Friday."Bard quipped as he finished off the drink, and handed it to Thranduil, standing indignantly at the counter.  
  
    "Yeah? Well, I look forward to being educated, even if it is only by a sub human standard." he bit back grinning.  
  
    "I see how it is."  
  
    "Do you now?"  
  
    "Don't you have someplace to be?"  
  
    In all honesty, Thranduil would much rather stay in the warm little coffee shop than go and deal with sales report meetings and the like. However, he knew that today was the end of the sales quarter, and he had to be there to sign all of the reports and such.  
  
    "Unfortunately, yes. I'll see you Friday, then?"  
  
    "Yeah, see you Friday!"  
  
    Bard watched as the blonde turned and waved, as he walked out of the door.   
  
    As Thranduil got in his car, he was rather surprised to see that there was something extra on the cup, in black sharpie.  
  
    You need my address, idiot. Here's my number, text me ;)  
  
    Thranduil smiled, started the car, and sped off to work.  
\--  
    Friday came much too late, Bard thought. The week dragged by, as if it was treading molasses. But, the day finally came, and through shared text messages and hidden smiles, it all came to a crashing finale at 6:30 Friday night. The kids were all taken care of, and he was at least dressed, but the problem came in the form of tofu.   
  
    Fucking tofu.  
  
    Bard had never cooked a vegetarian meal, and when Thranduil told him about it, he decided to give it a whirl.  
  
    Bad decision.  
  
    Looking at the sad pieces of white mush and green crap in the stove, he gave up, dumped the trash in the can and ordered Chinese, after a quick Google search on what was acceptable.  
  
    Just then, the doorbell rang. 6:35. Damn, right on time.   
  
    Bard took a deep breath, went to the front hall, and opened the door.   
  
    Thranduil was standing on the porch, looking unfairly good, as always. Blonde hair pulled back in a elegant braid, shirt and pants looking freshly pressed, wine bottle in. And here he was, in his one dress shirt and his good pair of jeans.  
  
    Damn, he looked good.  
  
    "Hi."  
  
    "Hey."  
  
    They sat in silence for a moment, just smiling like idiots, until Bard finally remembered.  
  
    "Oh, do you want to come in?"  
  
    "No, I'm good out here." Thranduil quipped sarcastically.  
  
    "Ha ha."  
      
    After explaining the whole tofu situation, assuring Thranduil that he had asked all of the necessary questions, the Chinese came and the wine began to flow. The next couple hours were awash in questions, answers and plenty of alcohol. They discussed everything from the 90's to the school system to, of course, classical music. Bard found out that Thranduil had was particularly invested in the Baroque era, and in composers such as Vivaldi, Pachelbel, and Albioni.   
  
    Bard also found out that Thranduil was a bit of a liquor fiend.  
  
    Which makes sense, because he did work in wine. But, at the end of the night, the takeout containers littered the table, and the green Mirkwood Wine bottle, discarded and empty, was on the counter. From the looks of it, Thranduil had a little too much for him to be comfortably driving home.  
  
    "Hey, uh, why don't you stay here tonight? I think you've had just a little too much."  
  
    "I think that's a good idea." While Thranduil didn't have enough to feel drunk, he was feeling comfortably warm and slightly buzzed, which means he should not be anywhere close to a car.  
  
    Bard ushered him up to his bedroom, where he insisted that, "No, I couldn't ask you to do that, I'll take the couch.", but Thranduil insisted back,"Come on, we'll both fit." So here he was, in bed with someone else for the first in a long time.  
  
    Happy to be going to bed early than 2 AM for once, and too tired to change into something else, Bard settles in to the master and almost immediately fell asleep, just barely catching what Thranduil said, beside him.  
  
    "Goodnight, I had a great time."  
  
    "So did I. Goodnight."  
  
    And with that, they both fell asleep.  
\--  
    On the edge of the property, just besides the oak trees, a shadow lay in wait. They flickered around the edges of the house, and as they started a lighter, their greased back hair caught the light, before they tossed it to the ground, lighting up the grass in a spectacular manner. As the burning spread, the shadow melted back in with the others, and disappeared.  
  



	5. Chapter 5

    Heat.   
  
    And dancing lights.  
  
    Heat and smoke and screeching and oh God.  
  
    Bard's eyes flew open, and immediately started to sting. His brain, still half asleep, didn't process what was happening until he started to choke.  
  
    Fire. So many flames. So much smoke.  
  
    He flew into action, out of bed and halfway to the door before he remembered the other person in the room.  
  
    "Thranduil, wake up! Get up, now!" he screamed as he rushed over to the other prone figure in the bed. Almost immediately, he woke up, and as his eyes adjusted to the scene before him, all of the blood rushed out of his face. Bard briefly processed that something was wrong, that was not normal, but he quickly put it out of his mind and blamed it on the situation.  
  
    "Let's go! Come on!"  
  
    Shaking, he got out of the bed and went to the door, but as he grabbed the doorknob, his hand jerked back.  
  
    "It's too hot!"  
  
    Shit. His kids. Faintly, he heard them, banging on their door and screaming, pleading for someone, anyone, to save them. Bard would rather die saving them than leave them alone and survive. So, he took a deep breath and a step back.   
  
    "Move!"  
  
    Do it for them.  
  
    With a hell of a lot of courage, he ran too, and then through, the door.  
  
    Outside it was a fiery inferno. Chunks of ash were raining from the ceiling, various pieces of wood popped and cracked, and burning remains of their life floated past him. Choking, he made his way to the end of the hall, where his kids were banging against the door, terrified.  
  
    "Help! Da, help, please!"  
  
    "Stand away from the door! It'll be alright, I promise." he yelled. Once the cries ceased, Bard raised his foot and broke it down.  
  
    Ow,  that hurt like a mother fucker.  
  
    The door fell, and plumes of smoke clouded out of the room, filling the already hazy hallway. The children fell out, almost on top of each other, scared to death and close to tears. Each of them had hands full of stuff they "needed" to save (Tilda had her rabbit), and Bard certainly wasn't going to argue with them, not now. As they crowded around him, he knelt down and looked them in the eye.  
  
    "I promise you, we are going to get out of here alive. But you need to follow me, and not say a word.  Do you understand?"  
  
    They nodded, and as Bard stood up, he realized there was no easy way out. The stairs were  risky, they could collapse at any time. But there were no bushes outside to land on if they were going to jump.   
  
    Now was not a good time to take risks, but it was the only one they could afford.  
  
    "Come on." he gestured to the stairs, "be careful, but hurry."  
  
    The kids, eyes wide with fear and bloodshot from the smoke, went down as fast as they could, Bard close behind. They made it to the front door, which was blessedly only just warm. They stumbled out onto the lawn, coughing and bleary-eyed. The sun had only just began to rise, and the dew was still fresh on the grass. Neighbors were peeking out from the windows, and the sound of a fire truck was close. Bard was glad they got out in time, but something was missing. Something really-      
  
    Shit.  
  
    It was warm and there were dancing lights and screeching alarms and this was all too familiar.  
  
    Thranduil stood in the burning house, looking at the spot where his date had just busted through the door to save his kids, and promptly forgot about him. Unsure where to go, for he was not there, he was 5 years in the past, watching his old house and the love of his life go up in smoke.   
  
    He remembered it like it was yesterday, watching his wife come down the stairs when they fell out from under her, and she just simply wasn't there anymore.   
  
    It was reliving hell, and he didn't want to be here anymore. He shouldn't have come in the first place, something like this always happened to the people he got close too, especially something like this. Shaking, he lowered himself to the carpet, and waited for the sweet embrace. He wanted, no needed to be with his wife, needs to see her one last time, tell her he loves her. Legolas would be ok, he was old enough to-  
  
    "Thranduil! come on, where are you? We need to get out. Now!"  
  
    He heard someone scream his name, an in a flash, his eyes opened, and in a flash, he was brought back to the present. He stood up, and clambered out of the bedroom, shaken and scared. He saw Bard, the one who had changed everything, standing at the bottom of the stairs, beckoning.  
  
    "Come on! I promise, they're safe, Just go down slowly, you'll be fine.  
  
    Thranduil edged his was to the landing, one step at a time. the little voice in the back of his head wouldn't stop whispering. You're gonna fall, just like she did, and then what will happen? You'll die, like you should have the last time. It wouldn't go away, it kept taunting him, mocking him, until before he knew it , he was at the bottom.   
  
    Thranduil fell into Bard's arms, which was a little difficult because he was a bit shorter, but he managed.   
  
    "Hey, hey, hey, it's ok, you're fine. Look, you made it, the door's right there."  
  
    Thranduil collected himself, and allowed Bard to go in front of him, so he could open the door to the blessed clean air. He walked, no, he was gliding towards the opening.   
  
    He was almost there-  
  
    *CRACK*  
  
    Startled, he looked up to see a burning beam falling towards him. Thranduil started to scream, nonononononONONO!  
  
    The pain of a thousand knives stabbing his everywhere fell into him, and then it was black.


	6. Chapter 6

    Bard hated hospitals.  
      
    He could appreciate the work they did, of course. Saving lives was no small task, and one he was sure he could not do on his own.   
  
    But did they have to be so cold? The nurses were never truly "kind". They all had that feeling of pasted on smiles, the "it's your own fault" aura, and sympathy about as deep as a pinky finger. He didn't want to be around that while he could be dying.  
  
    The hospitals themselves were all too bright, too plastic, too fake. Unforgiving. They were, in the loosest sense of the term, scary.  
  
    Bard had been here for three days, and he hadn't left.   
  
    Of course, after his  house burned down and he and his family had essentially become homeless, they were all taken to the hospital for smoke inhalation. Except for Thranduil, he had been taken directly to the E. R. The family had been released relatively quickly, and Bard had called his mother to arrange for the kids to stay there briefly, while he looked for a place to stay. Of course, he had been a little preoccupied, what with the overwhelming guilt he felt. It was his fault that Thranduil had been burned. If he hadn't such a push, maybe he wouldn't be in this situation. But no, he just had to go and ask him out. Now look where he is. Lying in a goddamned hospital bed.  
  
    Bard sighed, settling back into the hard plastic chairs once again. As he did, the doctor who was tending to Thranduil walked out and gestured to Bard.   
  
    He practically flew out of his chair, nerves propelling him forward.  
  
    "Well? How is he? Is he going to be-"  
  
    "Mr. Bowman, I understand your concern, but please do try to calm down. Yes, Mr. Oropherion is going to be fine. He has some pretty bad burns on his face though, so we're going to keep him a little longer to make sure everything goes well."  
  
    "Can I see him?"  
  
    "Yes, but he's going to be very tired, so you probably won't have a lot of time."  
  
    "Thank you! Which room?"  
  
    "238, right down the hall."  
  
    Bard smiled, and walked down to the room. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the creeping anxiety washed over him like a wave. Stopping outside of room 238, Bard took a deep breath and pushed open the door.  
  
    Inside was a mess of wires and soft noises. A heart monitor beeped quietly in the corner, wires all falling on to the figure on the bed.  
  
    Thranduil had never looked more defeated. Bandages covered the left side of this face, and about 6 inches of his hair had been seared off. His eyes were closed, but when he heard the creak of the door, they opened. The same brilliant gray they were, but something was different, they were off. Bard pushed the thought out of his mind, and smiled.  
  
    "Hey, uh, how're you doing?"  
  
    "Just peachy. How's everyone else? Did they get out in time?"  
  
    "Yeah, yeah. The kids are all fine. They're staying with my mother. Oh, and I called Legolas. He's staying at a friends house. He came in the other day, but I think you were still asleep."  
  
    "Oh, thank Lord. I don't know what state the house would've been in if he had been left alone."  
  
    "Well, luckily you'll still have some food left."  
  
    They fell silent for a moment, the only noises echoing through the room being the heart monitor and the drip of the IV. It wasn't quite comfortable, but what else could he say?  
  
    "I just wanted to say," Bard began.  
  
    "Don't you dare apologize. There's no way that anyone could have predicted it. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I'm the one who was too terrified to move."  
  
    "Don't," Bard warned softly, "It wasn't your fault. Obviously, something scared you, and I can already tell that this is going to get us nowhere. Just stop."  
  
    "Fine."  
  
    Thranduil crossed his arms and looked the other way, obviously ticked off. Bard could tell he was trying to hold back a yawn, and failing miserably. He looked tired, and while Bard didn't want to leave, he knew he had to.  
  
    "You're tired. I'll go."  
  
    "No, please stay."  
  
    "Thranduil, you have to sleep. I'll be back tomorrow. Promise."  
  
    "...Fine. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
    As Bard got up to leave, he turned and smiled, but Thranduil offered no response.  
  
    "Oh, and turn the lights on, will you? I didn't want to bother you before, but it's awfully dark."  
  
    "Thran, what are you talking about?"  
  
    "Well, the lights of course. They've been off this whole time, that's why it's so dark."  
  
    "Thran, they lights have been on this whole time."  
  
    "Then why can't I see anything?"  
  
    Bard felt  a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. I knew it, his eyes, the eyes were off.   
  
    "Bard, why can't I see?"  
  



	7. Chapter 7

    The rest of the week passed with an unsettling feeling of guilt, grief and anxiety. After talking to the doctors, Bard's worst suspicions were confirmed.  
  
    Thranduil was fully blind.   
  
    Apparently, when the beam landed on him, the burning wood burnt away a good layer of his cornea, rendering his eyes clouded and unfocused. It hurt Bard even more, him knowing that if he hadn't been such a teenager, neither of them would be in this situation. He had called into work, saying that he wouldn't be there for a couple days, and they all (thankfully) understood. His orchestral career was basically out the window because he had lost his bass in the fire. Everything was ruined, and Bard didn't even know what started it.  
  
    Apparently, the police investigating the scene had found a BIC lighter on the edge of the property, and since no one in his house smokes or had anything to do with a lighter, they were pretty confident that it was an arson.   
  
    That was even more startling. Who on earth hated him so much that they were willing to kill him? The police had asked for people he suspected, but he couldn't think of anyone that hated him that much.  
  
    Since the hospital was keeping Thranduil for another couple weeks to make sure that everything would be ok, he was staying with his mother while he looked for an apartment or something.   
  
    As he was scrolling through options on Firefox one afternoon while his kids were at school, the phone rang. Assuming that his mother would get it, he ignored it. A moment later, she popped her head through the door.  
  
    "Bard, honey? It's the hospital."  
\--  
  
    He pulled up 15 minutes later. Anxious to see Thranduil for the first time in weeks, Bard walked inside and went to the nurses station.  
  
    "Hi, um, I'm here to pick up a patient? You called and said he was ready to be discharged'  
  
    "Alright, what's their name?"  
  
    "Thranduil Oropherion."  
  
    "And that's O-r-o-f-e-r-i-o-n?"  
  
     "O-r-o-p-h-e-r-i-o-n."  
  
    "Okay. My records are showing that he is to be discharged, so you just need to sign this..."  
  
    It went on, paperwork and collecting what remained of his belongings, all the while the feeling in the pit of Bard's stomach twisted and multiplied. He didn't know what was going to happen when Thranduil went home. Becoming blind, that's got to take a lot out of a person. None the less, they were in this together, whether they liked it or not.  
  
    "Alright, and that's it! You can go take a seat, sir, we'll bring him right out."  
  
    "Thank you."  
  
    Bard went and sat in the plastic chairs for one last time, rubbing the palms of his hands across his jeans. Minutes passed, and he watched as other patrons went out and were released. Finally, after what seemed like ages, he saw him.  
  
    Thranduil looked like a shell. Gone was that air of self confidence and respect, replaced now with a broken man. His hair was tied up behind him, and he had a cane in his right hand. The eyes were all wrong, clouded and unfocused. Bard shook himself, and began to smile, before he remembered that Thranduil couldn't see him. The nurse pushing the wheelchair bent down to whisper something in his ear, and then came over.  
  
    "The doctor thought you should know that while he has everything he needs to adjust, it's most likely going to take a long time. If you're not comfortable with that, maybe it's best you call someone else to come in," she offered with that expected falseness.  
  
    "No, we'll work through it. I'll- We'll be fine."  
  
    "Okay, if you're sure."  
  
    The orderly went back to push Thranduil forward, right in front of Bard.  
  
    "Hey Thran, how are you doing?"  
  
    "I would like to go home please."  
  
    Bard nodded, taken aback by how empty his voice sounded, but began to help him out of his chair. They got to the car, slowly but surely, Thranduil leaning against him like a rag doll.   
  
    The drive to his house was silent, because what was there to talk about?   
\--      
    When they arrived at the estate, Bard once again rushed over to help him out of the car, but was pushed away.  
  
    "No. I need to do this myself."  
  
    Stumbling, Thran got out of the car clumsily and proceeded to swing his cane around like a maniac. Bard followed him up the drive, standing a few feet back as to avoid decapitation.  Slowly, they eventually made it to the front door, where Thranduil fumbled with his keys until Bard took them from his hand and slid them into the lock.  
  
    He looked lost until he heard the door open, and then Thranduil stepped inside. He made a move to close the door, but the seemed to remember something.  
  
    "Bard, forgive me."  
  
    "For what? The fire? I already told you, it was-"  
  
    "No, for being rude. I've put you out of a house and a job."  
  
    "It's fine. We'll figure something out, we always do."  
  
    "I would like for you to stay with me."  
  
    "What?"  
  
    "Stay with me. Here. You and your kids, it's the least I can do."  
  
    "No, I couldn't possibly-"  
  
    "I insist."  
  
    "Um, well, I'll think it over. Thank you for the offer, truly."  
  
    "My pleasure."  
  
    "Um, so I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."  
  
    "What for?"  
  
    "Well, someone needs to make sure you don't kill yourself."  
  
    The mood grew colder, and Bard sensed that he had definitely stepped over a line. Time to make his escape, then.  
  
    "Alright. See you tomorrow."  
  
    "Yes, I suppose."  
  
    And with that, the door closed in his face, but Thranduil had closed himself off much before that.  
\--  
    The next day was a flurry of movement, because Bard had decided to move in with Thranduil. Thinking it over, it seemed like the best possible solution for the situation they were in. So that morning, he told the kids that they were staying with one of Bards friends, and dropped them off at school. He had called Legolas when he went to pick up Thranduil to let him know that it was ok if he came home. After he gathered their remaining items form his mothers house, he kissed her goodbye and sped over to Thran's.  
  
    Bard pulled up the drive and walked up to the front with the box of their combined possessions in his hands, He rang the doorbell, expecting Thran to come and greet him properly. But as the door opened, he was disappointed.  
  
    Legolas, with one headphone in his ear and hair pulled back, stood at the door, studying him.  
  
    "Hello, I don't think we've ever met. Bard," he said as he put the cardboard box down awkwardly and held out his hand.  
  
    "Legolas. My dad's upstairs if you want to see him."  
  
    "How're you holding up?"  
  
    "Eh. It's different, seeing him like this."  
  
    "Yeah, yeah."  
  
    "Uh, let me show you your rooms," Legolas offered.  
  
    "Okay, that'd be great."  
  
    Picking up the box once again, he followed him through the house, marveling at just how huge it was, Thranduil must've been so out of place in his little matchbox. he was staring at a painting of some weird clock when a thought popped into his head.  
  
    "Hey, shouldn't you be in school?"  
  
    "Yeah, Dad couldn't drive me, so I'm skipping. Called in sick. Uh, we're here."  
  
    He had stopped outside of a wooden door. Bard pushed it open with his knees, ad saw inside. It was a good-sized room, nothing spectacular to define it. A king bed in the center, closet, dresser drawers against the wall, and another door that he assumed lead to a bathroom   
  
    He entered the room, and set the box on the bed. Bard turned to thank Legolas, but he had already left.  He thought that he had seen a kitchen on the way here, so he left in search of food.  
\--  
    This house was like a maze, Bard marveled. Having found the pantry, he made himself a sandwich and ate it as he walked in search of Thranduil.  He had promised him that he would help today, and then go back to work tomorrow. He had also looked into renting a bass from the local music shop, so it seemed like things were looking up.  
  
    As he turned the corner, he ran straight into him.  
  
    They both stumbled back, Thranduil's cane flew out of his hand and clattered on the floor.  
  
    "Oh, god, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you, are you okay?"  
  
    Thranduil's eyes focused somewhere above his head and Bard could physically see him building   
up walls, although he didn't know why.  
  
    "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just great," he said with a bitter edge.  
  
    "Um, is there anything you nee me to do? I did say I would help out today."  
  
    "Finding a way to magically repair my sight would be great, thanks."  
  
    "Um..."  
  
    "Walk with me, will you?"  
  
    Thranduil tried to find his cane, until Bard picked it up and slipped Thranduil's hand into his own. It fit like a puzzle piece.   
  
    Thy walked in silence, until they came back to the kitchen. He lead Thranduil over to the bar, where he put his cane back in his hands.  
  
    "Do you want anything?"  
  
    "Um, just water please."  
  
    As he ran the tap, he looked over at Thranduil. Really looked at him, He didn't seem at all different to what he was before, except for the attitude. He was fragile, like glass. But Bard isn't want to treat him  like glass. He knew that when the world came crashing down, it was the last thing you wanted. So he finished the drink and put it quietly in Thranduil's hands.  
  
    They were shaking.  
  
    He watched as the Thranduil lifted up the glass and brought it to his mouth. He watched as the glass slipped out of his fingers just as he put it to his lips. He watched as it fell to the hard tile, splintering apart like sunrays. As he watched the glass fall apart, it seems like Thranduil did as well. He let out a dry sob and stumbled back until he hit the wall. Slowly sinking down as the tears came harder. faster.  
  
    It broke Bard's heart like glass on the floor.  
  
    He went over and sat next to him, watching as he cried. Bard placed a hand on his shoulder, and Thranduil stiffened up.  
  
    "Hey, hey, it's going to be alright. We'll make it through. We can deal with this."  
  
    "But how? Everything's different now, I can't even drive a car."  
  
    "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."  
  
    "I wish I was dead."  
  
    "No, you don't"  
  
    "Yes, I do! I would rather be dead than be here."  
  
    "I understand."  
  
    "NO, YOU DON'T! YOU CAN STILL WAKE UP AND SEE YOUR KIDS! I CAN'T EVEN SEE WHAT I'M DOING ANYMORE! THERE'S NO POINT!"  
  
    Thranduil was screaming and they were both standing and Bard was aching inside because he can't do anything.   
  
    "All you're giving me is empty promises! You can't do anything, you don't even have a house."  
  
    That was low, even for Thranduil. It was hard to try and find some way to forgive that, but the devil on his shoulder spoke for him.  
  
    "Yea, I don't have a house, but at least I can still see and I'm not being a whiny bitch."  
  
    Shit. He shouldn't have said that oh fuck-  
  
    "Get out."  
  
    "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that I didn't mean it-"  
  
    "Get. Out."  
  
    "What?"  
  
    "You can stay here, but I don't want to see- have anything to do with you."  
  
    "But-"  
  
    "GO."  
  
    Bard turned and walked out of the room as quickly as he could. Just his luck. Just when everything's looking up, he goes and screws everything to hell.   
  
    He spends that night with his kids and a bottle of Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are you guys even reading this like even as I'm posting this is trash of the highest order thank you.


	8. Chapter 8

     Bard was miserable. Tiptoeing around Thranduil was like treading on glass with shoes made of rocks. Of course. Just when things were starting to look up, that bastard just had to go and ruin it. No,  he had to go and ruin it.  At least he let them stay. Lord knows Bard couldn't go back to his mothers, and he'd saw off his arm before going to the streets. The house was fortunately big enough where they didn't see each other much, but when they did, the tension was like molasses. Bard tried to help out where he could, driving the kids to school, picking up the groceries, making the meals.  
  
    Even though Thran wanted nothing to do with him , he still hadn't seen him come out of his room for the past week.   
  
    Bard had started going back to work, now that he didn't have anything else to do. Bard had gone out and rented a car so he'd drop off Legolas at his school, take his kids to the public school, and then drive in to work. It just wasn't the same anymore. Everything there reminded him of Thranduil. Even that goddamned doorbell. Because now every time it rang, he'd look up and hop to God it was him just like on that  one day all those days ago.  It was jarring, and he felt like a puppet in someone else's skin.  
  
    Of course, he hadn't gone back to he Philharmonic. It was too painful, he didn't have a bass, and he really did not want their sympathy. Bard felt the loss in his bones, he felt the urge to pick up a bow and start playing. But whenever he looked at the rental site, all he could see was the white hair in the front row.   
  
    Most night he would put on a face and smile till the kids went to bed, and then he'd drive to the nearest liquor store and try and drown his problems with a bottle of beer.  
  
    He was more than sure that Sigrid knew, she had seen the dark circles under his eyes and the way he kept taking out the trash incessantly, but she didn't say anything. Smart girl, she was. Didn't want her siblings to worry, so she helped wherever she could, as she always had.  
  
    Why did he have to go and ruin things? They were going great, and then he just had to go and screw everything up by being a bitch. Sure, Thran had been the antagonist, but he shouldn't have said anything. He's gotten good at bottling up, being distant. Then this little fucker had to go and mess everything up with his pretty blue eyes and long blonde hair.   
  
    They settled into a routine, wordlessly moving around each other. Bard was moving on autopilot through a haze wasn't sure would go away.  
\--  
    Thranduil lay in bed, pretty sure his eyes were directed upwards but there was no way to tell anymore. These last few weeks have been simultaneously heaven and hell. He'd told himself that you can't get close to him, he'll just go away too. But he had acted out of emotion, and now he was lying in bed with burned out eyes and a broken heart.  
  
    He hadn't left his room for a week, except for food, and that was an expedition on its own. He knew he should probably apply for some sort of guide dog, or at least classes to help him with goddamned cane, but Thranduil really didn't want anyone else seeing him like this. It was humiliating. A once proud and mighty person, reduced to a shell all because he fell in love with some charming bass player one month ago.   
  
    Thranduil though of these things, and he thought of work and his son and his wife and he suddenly wanted to cry. Because he couldn't remember what color his wife's hair was, or how red looked in the rising sky at 5 in the morning.  
  
    Sure, he could remember blobs, but he found that the more he tried to remember, the more they slipped away, like water through a fist. Suddenly, reality hit him like a truck, the true tears started to come.  
  
    He would never look at his son again. Never see him on his prom night, never see him walk down the isle, never see the bride.  
  
    They would forever be figments of his imagination.  
  
    He had liked the dark  before, but now it felt constricting and tight an everything he feared.  
  
    Thranduil had told himself don't get close to anyone, because they will always leave you in the end. His wife had taught him that, and he was feeling the repercussions of ignoring that now, as he lay in bed and the tears slid down his cheeks like ice on metal.  
\--  
    Sigrid walked through the halls, trying that useless excuse for a human. She didn't understand why boys enjoyed hiding their emotions so much. She could plainly see that her dad was upset, and she expected to do something about it before Sunday. She couldn't bear seeing him this upset, him hurting was hurting her.   
  
    Finally, she came across a room that was blaring heavy metal music. What else  
  
    She knocked on the door, and waited for the-  
  
    "WHAAT."  
  
    Finally.   
  
    She opened the door, and yelled, "Turn it down, for Christ sake!"  
  
    Legolas sat on the bed,  papers scattered around him. He reached over to his speakers and muted  the auto tuned screams.  
  
    "What do you need? I have a test to study for!"  
  
    "We need to fix this."  
  
    "Fix what? Your hair? Cause, I'm sorry, but that's a lost cause."  
  
    "Don't be rude. No, we need to fix what ever happened between our parents, because I am honestly getting sick of the whole 'sad puppy' act they're both presenting."  
  
    "From what my dad said, it sound like your's needs to apologize."  
  
    "Yeah, and my dad told the exact opposite. Look, we both know that they're miserable without each other, and they're both too scared to make a move. So we need a place where they'd be forced to meet eye to eye."  
  
    "And you think that'll just make everything better?"  
  
    "It'll be a start, yes."  
  
    "Why should I do this? Sounds stupid."  
  
    "I'll give you $15 bucks if this works."  
  
    "I'm in."


	9. Chapter 9

    "Da, I just told you. A friend went to the concert hall yesterday and she left her jacket, so she asked me to pick it up for her."  
      
    "Why can't she just go get it herself?"  
      
    "Because she's on her way to the mountains for the weekend."  
      
    "Why do you  have to get it? Couldn't she've just asked another friend?"  
      
    "Dad, she called me first and I said I would. I just need you to sit next to me in the car so I don't get arrested and then show me where conference room B is."  
      
    "But why-"  
  
    "Oh my god, Da! Come on, please!"  
      
    Bard looked at his oldest child unhappily, and sighed heavily.  
      
    "Fine. But just for a minute."  
      
    "Great. I'll  be in the car, don't take forever."  
      
    As she rushed off, Bard groaned and bent over to put on his shoes.  
\--  
    "Dad, the director of the Philharmonic just called."      
      
    "I didn't hear the phone ring."  
      
    "Well, it did. They want to meet you today about some donation thing."  
      
    "Tell them I'm sick."  
      
    "I already told them you'd be there."      
      
    "Why?"  
      
    "Because all you've done for the past week and a half is lay in bed and mope. Come on, you need to get out."  
      
    "I can't drive."  
      
    "I can."  
  
    "The weather's to bad. Look, the sky's covered with clouds"  
  
    "So?"  
      
    "I'm not going to win this, am I?"  
      
    "Probably not."  
      
    "Fine. Get my suit- no, it's the weekend. Just get me a t-shirt and a beanie."  
      
    "See you downstairs in 10 minutes."  
\--  
    The drive to the concert hall was silent yet comfortable. Bard was looking through his phone for apartments, because he knew they would have to eventually move out of Thranduil's place. While it was nice to have a place to call home for the moment, he couldn't keep dancing around him like this. It was driving him mad.  
      
    "Sig? What do you think of an apartment?"  
      
    "Why are we moving? We just got settled in with Thranduil!"  
      
    "No, we're not moving now, it's just... you know, we're gonna need to move out eventually, and I just wanted to get your opinion."  
      
    "Well, I think we should wait to move out, for like, another month. I just don't want Bain and Tilda going through that. Oh, did you file the insurance claim?"  
      
    "Yea, haven't gotten back to me yet."  
      
    "Alright."  
\--  
    Thranduil heard the crunch of gravel as he heard Legolas say "We're here." He heard him get out of the car, and heard his door open, so he held out his arm and allowed himself to be lead to the front doors.  
  
    "And why are we here again?"  
  
    "I told you already, the director wants to talk about donations or something."  
  
    "Alright, whatever. I'm still not happy about it."  
  
    "Didn't think you would be Dad."  
\--  
    When Bard stepped in the concert hall it felt like going home. Sigrid noticed the slight change in his face, but she didn't say anything.  
  
    "Um, Da? Where's conference hall B?"  
  
    "Oh, right. Um, this way.  
\--  
    Thranduil felt the cool air of A/C wash over his face as he stepped inside.  
  
    "Alright, Legolas, where are we going. I want to get home as fast as possible."  
  
    "They said conference hall B, so it's this way, I think."  
  
    Thranduil felt himself being pulled gently, so he began to walk with his son, arm in arm, cane in hand.  
\--  
    "Come on Sig, I want to get home."  
  
    "Well, I'm sorry Dad, let me just clone myself so I can find this jacket faster."  
  
    "You're barely even looking."  
      
    "That is a lie!"  
  
    Bard laughed from across the room as his daughter checked under tables and chairs for the missing jacket. He heard voices from the hall, but dismissed them as he laughed even harder at his child. As the voices got closer, he recognized at least one.  
  
    No.  
      
    It couldn't be.  
  
    It was.  
  
    The voices entered the room, and standing there, in all of his beanied glory, was Thranduil Oropherion, the very person he had been avoiding for the past week.  
  
    "Legolas, are you sure we're in the right room? I can't hear anyone."  
      
    Stunned, but only for a minute, Bard was speechless.  
  
    "Legolas? Are you there? Is this a prank? Because I se=wear to God if it is, I-"  
  
    He was suddenly cut off, because Bard had practically ran across the room to strangle him in a hug.  
  
    "What the-"  
  
    "Thran, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, I never meant to say that, oh my God, I'm so sorry"  
  
    Thranduil held stock still. This was it. This was the time where he had to decide of he wanted to throw it all out the window and pull this shining example of a man into his fucked up life, or if he was going to push him away and walk right out those doors.  
  
    Ah, fuck.  
  
    The cane clattering to the floor, Thranduil hugged back because he has been safe and stagnant for far too long.  
  
    Bard pulled his head out of the crook of Thranduil's neck, and he smiled at him, knowing full well that he couldn't see.  
  
    And as he did, the sun broke through the clouds covering the sky and he spoke, arms around each other's waist.  
  
    "I think we're gonna be ok, you and me."  
  
    "I think so too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS DONE 
> 
> Mkay guys I'm gonna go buy a celebratory pie now thanks for reading/leaving kudos/commenting/sending me money/ whatever it really makes this whole thing worth it.
> 
> go check me out on my phan tumblr if you like- japan-phan.tumblr.com
> 
> EDIT- Fear not my friends, I am working on a sequel. I don't know when it will be done, or how long it will be, but I will be doing one. Thanks to everyone who commented!


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